


gold glitters in your palm

by NikeScaret



Category: Batman (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Also Jon just really wants to have Damian, Damian is a Prince, Damian still cannot speak about his feelings, Fluff, Jon and Damian are aged up obviously, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Resolved Romantic Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, They can't communicate very well, They think it's unrequited, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, You can't blame him though, seriously this whole fic would not have happened without that porn, then its
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 12:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10877247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikeScaret/pseuds/NikeScaret
Summary: There are certain things that Damian doesn't want anyone to know.One such thing is that he's the Prince of Bialya because of Mother.Jon just so happens to learn this and everything spirals downwards.





	gold glitters in your palm

**Author's Note:**

> Honest to God, this is-was canon.
> 
> Talia was ruler of Bialya in Robin: Son of Batman.
> 
> And since Damian is her son, that makes him a prince.
> 
> I told that to people on the chat and this happened.
> 
> Really I had not expected it to get this long, but it did, and I'm actually rather proud of it.
> 
> Also I wrote the sex myself. 
> 
> I'm proud of that too since it's my first time writing it.
> 
> With that said, enjoy.

Damian tends to avoid Bialya.

He refuses to acknowledge why.

And doesn't answer any questions.

He just does.

Only Maya knows why and she's certainly not talking.

Damian avoids Bialya.

And so Robin does as well.

Nobody knows why, and Damian intends to keep it that way.

Except-

Except sometimes things happen.

And this “thing” happening?

Yeah, that's Damian crashing in the desert with Jon because they'd been hit.

As they spiral towards rolling sands with the remains of the jet falling around them, Jon hugs Damian to his chest and Damian passes out a moment before they hit the ground.

* * *

Jon wakes up and the first thing he notices is that Damian isn't in his arms anymore.

He worries instantly because Damian isn't indestructible and if they got captured, he would get hurt more than Jon and he's just a human-

Jon's eyes snap open at the thought and he blindly punches the person in front of him with all his strength.

They go flying and Jon forces himself up, blearily looking around in search for his friend.

No Damian.

Jon forces himself off the bed and stumbles as he was towards the door, pain dancing his way across his muscles.

Damian is here _somewhere_ and Jon is going to save him because he's probably too injured to escape himself but he'll try anyways and then he'll just get more hurt and-

Jon tears the door from it's hinges and keeps on walking, keeping an ear open for Damian's heartbeat.

His powers are on the fritz again, so he only occasionally gets it and so he has to flick down walls to see if Damian's there.

He barely acknowledges the servants rushing around him and sometimes pushes past them without care.

Damian is the only one that matters right now.

Finally, his super hearing stabilizes and _there._

Jon crumbles stone in his hand as he rushes in. “Damian, it's okay-”

Jon stops in his tracks because Damian is in shimmering gold.

It…

“Jon?” Damian asks, frowning as though he doesn't know how he looks, and Jon simply shakes his head, heart pounding.

Gold bands wrap around his neck and wrists and there's a circle of gold with a red stone on his head.

Jon steps back.

Loose pants and a see through fabric hanging his wrists. All in gold.

“Jon?”

His eyes stand out, brilliant shades of green with silver scattered in it. His skin shines and-

A harsh slap.

“Jon! What the hell is wrong with you!” Damian snaps, crossing his arms.

Jon blinks once, twice, and finds that whatever he just went through is over. “Nothing. Just didn't expect you to be in that.”

Damian sighs, absently pulling at his pants. “Yes. But Mother is still queen here and she has named me her heir.”

Jon's brain short circuits again. “Wait. So you're a prince?”

Damian raises a eyebrow. “Yes.”

* * *

Jon shouldn't have been so surprised.

This is Damian.

 _Still,_ he thinks as he eyes Damian, the gold sitting just right on his shoulders.   _It would've been nice to have some warning._

“Prince Damian.” A man in white starts, bowing low.

Damian stares down at him from his place in his throne and nods. “What have you come for?”

“My village has come to pay our respects.” The man answers, and when Damian shifts, the gold moves with him and catches the light.

Jon can't quite move his eyes away from Damian's waist. He's right _there,_ if Jon could move his hand up just a bit and drag those pants down just a inch there'd be a _excellent_ view of Damian's hip bones-

“Very well.” Damian says, and he tilts his head and those large earrings that hang from his ears chime with emeralds sparkling in the desert sun. Jon wants to grab them and make them dance in his palm as-

“Yes. I have brought a treasure from the oldest villager. She says that it was one of King Amu’s possessions.” And he waves his hand to bring it forward and Damian leans forward in interest, but Jon's distracted by Damian's strong back muscles that ripple as he stands.

Damian walks down the stairs like he's a predator and Jon's wants to bite into his shoulder, leave a large purple mark-

“Oh?” Damian's voice is soft. “This is a wonderful blade.”

Jon tears his eyes away from the sight of Damian in _gold_ in the _sun_ to see a dagger.

“Yes. That is why we want you to have it.” The visitor says, obviously pleased at how well the gift was received.

“I accept.” Damian says without missing a beat, and the sheer fabric hanging from his wrists that connect to his waist glimmers as he takes the box.

Jon wants to tangle himself in it and make Damian undo it with more attached.

“I thank you for your village's gift. I hope it faces many blessings.”

The man smiles. “As do I, Prince Damian.”

He leaves, and so does everyone else, leaving only Jon and Damian.

Damian in gold.

Jon manages to keep his hands to himself on their way to his quarters.

“I'm sorry that we had to deal with that, Jon.” Damian tells him, sincere and heartfelt, and normally Jon would be ecstatic over a apology from Damian but right now he's trying not to shove Damian into a wall and kiss him senseless.

“It's fine.” Jon says, forcing the words past a tongue who would really much rather be doing other things.

Damian frowns and opens his mouth and the gem on his head dangles and his eyes blaze as he answers, “It's really not.”

Jon keeps his self control for maybe a second longer before throwing it out the window and drags Damian inside, locking the door behind him as he presses Damian close and kisses him.

Damian instantly responds, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue inside Jon's mouth and Jon groans, grip on narrow hips almost bruising and Damian makes a soft noise in the back of his throat and Jon breaks away, heaving for breath he doesn't really need and they're five feet away from his bed.

Jon picks Damian up and kisses him again, gently laying him on the bed and climbing on top of him.

Damian wraps his arms around Jon's neck and pulls him closer, hot and hungry and Jon makes the executive decision to move up and his thigh brushes up against Damian.

Damian sucks in a harsh breath through his nose and shakes and Jon decides he likes that.

But still-

Still, Jon honestly doesn't expect anything to go further than this-making out.

But then Damian bites at his lip, tears at his shirt, and gasps, “Jon-”

Well.

Jim finds his hands on Damian's hips, grip almost bruising, and Damian is tugging him closer, pressing up against Jon like this is all he needs, and Jon can't ever deny Damian anything he wants this desperately.

Especially not now, not when Jon wants it as well.

Jon tears his lips away from Damian's, and his-best friend? Boyfriend? What would this classify them as?-searching kiss lands Jon's jaw.

Jon sinks his teeth Damian's shoulder, nips his canines at the brown skin and sucks, and Damian let's out a long, drawn out breath that Jon recognizes.

Damian's trying to calm himself down.

 _That won't happen,_ Jon thinks, and one of his hands slide lower and lower until Damian jumps into his hand in shock. _Not right now._

Jon pulls back and smiles at the dark purple mark on Damian's skin, fingers running up and down Damian's length, almost lazily.

Damian grabs at Jon's collar, face flushed red and eyes hazy, and grits out, “Stop toying with me, and _move!”_

Jon laughs, presses a final kiss to Damian's shoulder, and moves lower, leaving red in his wake.

Even still, Damian is writhing beneath him and though Jon's hand holding tight and providing some pressure, Jon knows that it's not enough.

Not for him or Damian.

So he stops taking his time and pulls his arm back quickly, and the sound Damian makes is beautiful.

The crown is close to falling off, so titled from the way Damian throws his head to the side, and Jon grabs it, grabs it and throws it to the floor and Damian lets out a strangled moan when Jon's index finger presses down on the tip.

Damian's beautiful, so fucking gorgeous, Jon thinks as he captures Damian's lips a moment before he trembles and shakes and comes, white and sticky Jon's hand and it's going to be so disgusting tomorrow, but right now Jon doesn't care.

Not right now, not with his own problem.

Damian's eyes are lidded, tired and so satisfied, but then he glances down and smirks.

“Jon,” Damian purrs, and Jon nearly groans because that tone is _not_ helping.

“Dami-” Jon cuts himself off with a startled hiss.

Damian's grin is only growing more and more devious, and Jon slams a fist into the mattress, growling into Damian's ear.

Damian grips his shoulder and says, “If you want more than _this,”_ A harsh jerk and Jon swears under his breath. “Then get that oil I got as a offering and _fuck me.”_

Jon bites the mark he left on Damian's skin and says, “Fine. Where are they?”

Damian's answering smile is anything but innocent as he points to the small table beside the bed.

Jon fights the urge to dive and grab it immediately, but he decides to be petty and wait, because Damian is being demanding and while Jon finds it hot as hell, he wants to make Damian _wish_ for a few more minutes.

So wait he does, sitting back on Damian's legs and pulling off his clothes, almost leisurely, and watches as  Damian's gaze becomes heated, becomes _lustful,_ and almost laughs when Damian's hands travels up his chest, tracing the edges of his muscles.

Jon begins undressing Damian while he distracted, pulling off the jewelry and the pants and he's finally laid bare and he doesn't even notice.

Jon's erection hasn't gone down, not with the sight of Damian below him, and he's waited long enough, _far_ too long, so he reaches out, grabs the oils, and slicks up his fingers.

Damian's still trailing his hand down Jon's neck, so it's a surprise when Jon carefully puts a finger inside him.

Damian flinches, hand falling to grip into the sheets. “Sorry, Dami.” Jon murmurs guiltily, hating the fact that he has to cause Damian pain.

Then Damian grabs his face, pulls him in close until they're nose to nose, and tells him, “Add another.”

“Damian, you aren't-”

“I don't care. _Add another.”_

Jon ends up pushing another in.

And, Damian without those walls around him, the fact that he's simply _himself_ is wonderful.

And Jon adds a third.

Damian gasps and makes Jon's fingers get deeper.

Jon doesn't really know how long he spends doing this, but he knows that he's far past the point of impatience when he deems Damian ready, when he puts the oil on him.

Jon's at the point where he just wants to get _in._

So when he gets a inch in, and while the heat and tightness is amazing, he doesn't stop.

The fact that Damian has a glint in his eyes that says if he stops before he's in all the way, he will make Jon's life a living hell doesn't encourage hesitating.

So Jon didn't stop.

And he's finally, _finally_ in, and he just-

Jon pauses.

He doesn't want to rush this.

Damian has other ideas. He wraps his legs around Jon's waist, holds onto his shoulders and says, matter-of-factly, “Move, or I will hide Kryptonite in your food.” It's quiet, more of a whisper, but it's a promise.

Jon laughs and thrusts, once, twice, and says, “Okay, Your Majesty.”

Damian starts to reply, but then he moans as Jon finds his rhythm, and then he can't talk, simply mouthing at Jon's jaw, breathing heavily, and Jon's the same, trying to hold on.

Then Damian cries out, nails digging into Jon's back, and Jon knows that he's found that place.

Damian's skin is shiny with sweat, and Jon licks it when he can, wherever he can, and Damian kisses him, deep and full of desire.

Jon's close, so fucking close, but Damian's hard again, has been for a while, so Jon wraps his hand around and starts to pump.

Damian chokes back a scream, and Jon thrusts in four more times before Damian's trembling, and Jon knows those cues by now, so he doesn't let up.

One, two, three-

Damian muffles a shout into Jon's chest, and Jon shushes his own not a moment later into the pillow because Damian's squeezing on him and holy _shit-_

Jon comes, and Damian leans back, a small smile lingering on his lips as he leans forward to kiss Jon on the lips.

It's more of a peck and almost chaste.

Jon smiles back and pulls out, flopping on the bed.

Damian scoffs as he carefully curls up into Jon's side, wincing as he does so. “You're so ungraceful.”

Jon turns his head to glare and give a retort such as _What, like you wouldn't be?_ but then he passes out, and the last thing he remembers-and the next morning, he wonders if he imagined it in his exhaustion-is Damian pressing his lips to his forehead and saying, “I love you anyways, Jonathan Kent.”

* * *

When Jon wakes up, he's alone.

There's no Damian beside him, and Jon was expecting that. 

He was.

He just.

When he gets dressed, when he goes it for breakfast, there's no Damian either.

In fact, there's no Damian anywhere.

It itches at his mind, a constant distraction, and Jon finds he can't do a lot of things.

He doesn't see Damian that day.

 _That's as well,_ Jon thinks, and goes to sleep, resolutely ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind asking where Damian is.

He doesn't care.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't.

And when Bruce comes to pick them up the morning after, Damian ignores him completely.

Jon disregards the hurt that stabs his heart.

One night shouldn't have mattered.

Nothing should have changed.

And yet it did.

And it does.

* * *

They don't speak to each other much for about two months.

Their team ups are filled with awkward conversation, Jon trying to talk to Damian about what happened.

What they did while in the desert.

Damian pretends he doesn't hear him.

Their synchronization is perfect as it ever is, and Jon suspects that's the only reason Bruce even lets them fight together.

Like now.

“Robin, can we please-” Jon ducks down as Damian hurls a bird-a-rang at the robot throwing a punch at Jon's head. “Talk-” Jon leaps over Damian's head to stop a fatal blow.. “About what happened-” Damian slides under his legs and cuts the cord that keeps the metal head to the body. “In Bialya?”

Damian grunts and pushes him down just before electricity lashes against the concrete. “No.”

“Da- _Robin_ ,” Jon snaps, jumping to his feet to shield Damian from a lick of fire. “We need to talk about it.”

Damian snarls and kicks at his head; Jon spins away as it connects to the stomach of the villain of the week.

“No, we _don't!”_ Damian shouts. “It was a _mistake!_ Something that should've never _happened!”_

Jon bares his teeth, shoving Damian back. “Yeah? You say that, but sex needs more than one player! And guess what?” He has Damian backed into a wall, trapped between stone and Jon, and Damian has to tilt his head up to look him in the eyes because Jon's just that tall, but he's still defiant and Jon finds it more irritating than ever.

“You're the second player!” 

Damian's lip curls and he answers, “I know. And I’m saying that it shouldn't have happened.”

“You weren't complaining when I was fucking you!”

“Because-”

A dark shadows falls from above and lands behind them. Damian leans down and under Jon's arm to go stand at Bruce's side. “Father.” Damian says quietly, and Jon's mind flashes back to when his voice was quiet and he was demanding for Jon to just _move,_ before a low growl forces Jon from those memories.

“Superboy, is there a problem?” Bruce asks, hand landing on Damian's shoulder and squeezing a little.

Jon drags his eyes away from Damian and replies, “No.”

“Good. Then go home.”

Jon nods jerkily, still angry that Damian would treat it as a mistake when nothing has ever felt so right, and leaves, taking to the skies as the Bat and Bird leave, and Jon-

Jon wants to talk to Damian again. Try and sort things out.

But Jon knows, with the same certainty that comes with the knowledge that his mother is Lois Lane and his father is Clark Kent, that what he _wants_ doesn't matter.

Not to Damian at least, and that aches the most.

* * *

A week later, Feral Prince of Gotham Damian Wayne gains a girlfriend.

Jon stares down at the picture of Damian with a girl on his arm and crumbles the magazine into a ball before throwing it at his door.

The girl has blonde hair and green eyes and non-freckled skin.

It's like he doesn't want to be reminded of Jon.

Jon takes a deep breath and falls back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with a scowl.

Fine. He doesn't need Damian. He's lived without him before-he can do it again.

Jon sets his jaw and nods. Yeah. He can do this.

He ignores the pain in his chest at the very thought.

* * *

Surprisingly, the girl sticks around.

Longer than Jon had expected.

But it doesn't concern him now; he and Damian aren't seeing each other, haven't for about a month and a half now.

It doesn't concern him.

He pays no mind to the fact that sometimes he just wants to curl up and cry; sometimes he wants to call Damian, simply to talk about his day and what's bothering him, wants to hear his voice.

Damian isn't his.

Damian doesn't bother Jon, doesn't bother himself to call, to video chat.

And Jon's not going to do it, no matter how much he wants to, no matter how much he wants to talk.

Damian doesn't need him.

And so Jon can't need him.

But right now, as Jon throws his bag onto the floor and buries himself under his covers, Jon finds it hard to remember.

He listens for Damian's heartbeat, a habit he has yet to get out of, and instead of the steady _thump-thump-thump_ it's faster, more _thumpthumpthump._

Jon glances at his phone, finger right above Damian's speed dial that he hasn't had the heart to change.

It's five in the afternoon here, which means it's around four in Gotham.

Jon frowns, sitting up and wiping away the tears of frustration that linger around his eyes. “What are you doing, Damian?”

Damian shouldn't be training right now. Not according to what Jon knows of his schedule.

A small grunt of effort, one that Jon knows well from many battles at Damian's side, and Jon is out of his room in a moment, speeding towards Gotham.

Damian might be hurt, might need his help-

Jon arrives at the Manor with Damian's heartbeat ringing in his ears, and there's a party.

Women in elegant dresses swan around, laughing and sipping champagne with their arms linked with their dates. Men in tuxes gwaff with their friends, perfectly groomed.

Jon is out of place in his jeans and red flannel over a white shirt.

But-

Damian.

He backs out of the ballroom and jump out of a window, landing on a branch. He scrambles his way over to where he knows Damian is and slips back inside, making sure that his feet never touch the floor.

He turns the corner, and Damian is there.

Jon's heart leaps into his throat at the sight of him. Damian's not in gold but he's just as gorgeous in the spotty Gotham sunlight, and for a moment Jon almost forgets that he and Damian aren't talking, that he's acting as though he doesn't need Damian.

Almost steps forward and says hi.

But then that girl from the magazine steps forward, and she's in a scarlet dress that ends at the knees and extends at the waist with a neckline that doesn't show a lot.

She's beautiful, in a way.

Jon watches numbly as she comes closer to Damian, closer and closer until she's in his personal space and Damian doesn't snap at her.

And he doesn't resist when she kisses him.

Damian doesn't-

Jon turns around and rushes out of the Manor, out of Gotham, and leaves the couple oblivious to his presence, to the fact that he's choking on his tears.

Jon leaves and Damian doesn't even know he was there.

* * *

It's been two months since Jon has talked to Damian and Jon's finally managed to get used to living without Damian.

Even if it's like missing a limb.

But Robin and Superboy no longer team up, no longer speak.

Jon avoids Damian, ducking behind corners and speeding away at the first sight of him because the images of him glittering in gold in the desert, or him below him with his crown askew, or when that girl-Jon refuses to learn her name-and Damian were kissing fills his mind.

Jon finds himself _angry._

Damian-

Damian is his and-

One night changed that.

One night with Damian without inhibitions, without any thoughts other than make each other feel _better._

One night and suddenly Damian isn't his and Jon's been learning to live with that, learning to live without Damian at his side.

But apparently Damian's been learning to do that for years.

So Jon avoids him. He doesn't want to give in to temptation, give into that gaping _wish_ in his chest.

But the few times they're in the same room, Jon can feel the tension between them, crackling with Jon doesn't even know what.

But-

“Hey, Damian.” Jon says weakly, shifting back and away.

Damian gives him a sharp look, clicking his tongue. “Hello, Jon.”

Jon grins faintly. “What's going on? I heard you got a girlfriend a few months ago.”

Damian scoffs and rolls his eyes, and Jon feels something wither inside. “Yes, her name Lillian.”

“Oh.”

Everything's silent for a second, and Jon finally gathers to the courage to ask the question that has been picking at his mind ever since that fight five months ago.

“Damian, can you tell me-”

The door slams open and Dick walks in, all smiles and happiness and Jon walks out.

Dick's been supportive of Damian's relationship with Lillian.

Jon thought-

He thought that Dick would _know._ He's Dick, he's supposed to pick up on other's feelings

Jon supposes that he hasn't. Not in Jon's case, at least.

“I-I hope that you and Lillian stay.” Jon says over his shoulder, and gets no response.

* * *

It's been half a year since that night in Bialya, and Damian's broken up with Lillian but still not talking to Jon.

That's fine.

It's fine.

Jon tells his friends that every day.

Jon moves on.

It's winter, and Jon's school is having a annual winter dance, and he's been asked to go with a guy named Jack Thompson.

He's the star football player of the school.

Jon goes home glowing.

Somebody wants him. Somebody wants him for him and they won't say it's a mistake because _they_ asked _him._

He almost calls Damian just to gloat, just to say _I'm not the one with the problem._

But he doesn't.

And the day of the dance, he goes with Jack in a blue shirt in a tuxedo and Jack is the same.

They match.

They dance and drink the punch and Jack kisses Jon as a slow song plays overhead.

It's-

It's perfect.

It's not like in Bialya, where Damian was a prince and dressed in gold, where Jon kissed him.

Here and now, underneath cheap white and blue lights, dancing between snowflakes and Jack with him, Jon is the prince. And he's the one who was kissed.

And Jon doesn't feel like it's a mistake.

* * *

A week later, Damian comes marches into his room.

Jon nearly tosses him out the window.

He's texting Jack, laughing at a picture he sent him when Damian shoves him onto his back and climbs over him, straddling his waist.

Jon immediately struggles. This isn't okay, not at all, and he wants Damian _off._

“Why didn't you tell me you had a dance?” Damian demands, swiping a sliver of Kryptonite on Jon's arm to keep him down.

Jon falls weak and doesn't answer.

“Tell me!” Damian shouts, driving a fist into the mattress.

“Because I didn't think you'd care!”

“Of course I would care!”

Jon laughs, throwing his head back. “You haven't given me any indication that you do in the last six months!”

Damian bares his teeth, eyes lingering on the place where neck meets shoulder. “Really?”

“Yes!” Jon replies, and he's unaware of the way Damian is leaning forward. “You've barely-"

He's cut off by Damian kissing him.

It isn't like their kiss in the palace. Back then, Jon had kissed Damian and it was hungry and full of desire and Jon had loved it.

This kiss is angry and desperate.

Teeth click and a tongue storms into Jon's mouth, and he hates it.

Hates it, hates, it, hates it.

So he bites Damian's tongue, and shoves him off the bed.

“You can't-” Jon's voice cracks. “You can't just do that! You can't-get out.”

“Jon,” Damian starts, sitting up.

“No!” Jon screams, throwing his alarm clock. It smashes against the wall and shatters. There's silence for a few moments as Damian and Jon stare at each other and Jon points at his door.

“Get. Out."

Damian leaves.

* * *

Jack takes Jon on a date to the local burger place, and Jon tries to enjoy it, he really does, because Jack is so nice and Jon likes him so much, but yesterday was the day Damian came and Jon can still feel Damian's lips on his own.

“Jon?” Jack asks, taking Jon's hand, and Jon forces himself to meet his boyfriend's eyes and smile. “What's wrong?”

Jon sighs explosively, leaning back into his chair and staring at the ceiling. “My best friend,” He begins, messing with his shirt. “My best friend visited yesterday for the first time in months and we talked and-” Jon stops and looks down.

Jack's fingers are tangled with Jon's and when he glances up, Jack gives a small grin, squeezing Jon's hand.

Jon lets out the breath be didn't even know he was holding. “And he kissed me “

Jon watches Jack's face carefully, but Jack merely shakes his head and asks, “And you didn't kiss back, right?”

Jon smiles. “No.”

It's the truth. While _Damian_ may have kissed him, _Jon_ hadn't kissed back.

Jack laughs and steals a fry. “That's all I care about.” He says above Jon's cry of _Hey, that's mine!_

Jon grins and leans across the table to kiss Jack on the lips. “Okay.” He says, still giddy and lips a centimeter away from Jack's.

“Good.” Jack answers, and kisses him again, and Jon tastes vanilla milkshake and fries and it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

* * *

Jon's time with Jack has been a dream. Jack's wonderful.

He's the mysterious meme lord of the high school, and makes Jon laugh and he helps Jon through schoolwork and accepts that sometimes Jon has to call off their dates and he doesn't blame Jon for it.

He tries so hard in school and sports and Jon is in the stands every time they play, cheering for his boyfriend.

Jack always grins and waves and students whisper that ever since Jack Thompson has started dating Jonathan Kent, he's playing better and better.

Jon and Jack have the same lunch, so they sit together, holding hands under the table and simply talking.

Jon's so busy being happy with Jack and school and Superboy, he doesn't think about Damian.

For two months, Damian doesn't plague his mind, doesn't lurk in the edges of Jon's thoughts.

For two whole months, there's no Damian.

And Jon's glad.

He doesn't hear about how Robin's been taking more and more risks, getting hurt more often, getting _benched_ more often.

He doesn't hear how Damian Wayne attacked a paparazzi crowd multiple times because they asked about his love life. He doesn't hear how he's practically falling apart by the day, more close to breaking than ever.

Doesn't see, doesn't care.

He's wrapped up in Jack, sweet, kind Jack, and his life.

Nothing about Damian reaches his ears, nor his eyes.

For two months, there's no interaction between Jon and Damian and in those two months, Damian changes.

In two months, Damian's no longer the same.

* * *

Jon's laughing with Jack at a inside joke when his phone rings. He glances down and frowns when he realizes it's Damian. He rejects the call and smiles at his boyfriend, content with looking at Jack's face when his phone rings again.

Jon looks at caller ID and let's out a breath of annoyance when it's Damian again. “Sorry,” Jon says, and Jack nods understandably.

Jon inclines his head back and leaves the room, pressing the green phone button on the screen. “What?”

“You need to get your ass over here right now.”

Jon rolls back on his heels. Dick's tone is harsh and more mean than anything Jon's heard from him. “Why?”

Jon can hear Dick grinding his teeth. “Because you broke Damian's heart and you need to fix it!”

Jon scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “I think you have your stories switched.” Jack turns his head and Jon waves.

“Just come over here _now.”_ Dick grits out, and hangs up.

Jon stares at his phone, sighs, and knocks on the glass of the restaurant. Jack looks over and Jon mimes a phone before shrugging apologetically. Jack smiles and raises a hand in goodbye.

Jon does the same, and then he's a blur of color on the way to Gotham once he's on the roof.

Concern niggles at his mind, a old worry. Damian's so _human._ So fragile that Jon's often imagined fights and injuries that turn his stomach.

Then he realizes that he hasn't heard about Robin or Damian in two months and increases his speed, pushes his body until he's breaking the sound barrier twice over.

And even then it's not fast enough.

* * *

Jon stops so suddenly at the entrance to the Manor that dirt goes flying.

“Is Damian okay?”

Alfred points to the Cave with a small sniff and a downturn of the lips.

Jon ignores that and races down the stairs and _there._

Damian's on the medical table cradling a broken wrist and Dick is fluttering around him and Jon feels guilt fill him.

“Damian?”

Damian doesn't look up, doesn't answer. He just stares at the floor.

Heart crawling up into his throat, Jon slowly walks down the staircase, keeping one hand on the wall to keep his balance.

He stops in front of Damian. Damian doesn't see him.

Jon kneels on the stone below, takes Damian's hands in his own, and looks him right in the eye.

“Dami, Dami, come on. What's happening with you?” Jon asks softly.

Damian only shifts closer, gently putting his head on Jon's chest. His shoulders shake and Jon realizes just how much his absence has hurt his best friend.

Jon stands, takes Damian into his arms and and simply holds him as he breaks down, rocking back and forth and whispering _I'm not going anywhere. You're okay, you're okay. I'm not leaving. I promise._

Jon can feel everyone's gaze on them, accusing and angry, but he doesn't pay them any mind right now.

Right now, at this moment, Damian matters more than anything.

Jon can't stand to shatter his concentration just so that he can defend himself.

Damian's falling apart and Jon will not let his attention waver.

And as Damian's hand clenches in Jon's shirt, as another cry tears itself from his throat and Jon tightens his grip around him, Jon decides that it never will again.

He won't ignore Damian again.

* * *

Jon falls asleep with Damian in his arms and he wakes up with Damian in his arms.

It's the difference between last time and today.

They're laid out on the medical table, Jon's arm around Damian and Damian curled up into his sure, head on Jon's shoulder and small breaths fanning his neck, and their legs are tangled together.

Jon blushes lightly.

It's not the implied intimacy of the position that makes him blush.

It's the fact that Damian trusts him enough even after everything, to fall asleep on him.

(Jon is only partly lying. Both to himself and everyone. He loves the feeling of Damian in his arms. Loves it so completely that he buries it under denial.)

But Jon doesn't want to wake Damian up.

Damian has purple bruises under his eyes and his skin is patterned black and blue.

He needs rest.

So Jon doesn't move.

He doesn't get up, he doesn't answer his phone; he only moves to make sure Damian doesn't fall off the bed.

And Jon smiles at the ceiling, a small chuckle making it's way past his lips as he buries his nose in Damian's hair.

It smells like battle and blood and Gotham, and Jon _should_ find it repulsive because of his super senses, but instead he finds it comforting.

Damian mumbles something and wiggles closer and Jon let's him, let's him press his face into the junction between Jon's shoulder and neck and stay there.

Jon laughs quietly at the irony. Standoffish, don't-touch-me-or-you-will-die Damian Wayne is a snuggle bunny when asleep.

Who knew?

 _Well,_  Jon considers and trails his fingers through Damian's hair, _now I do._

Damian shivers and opens one eye, glaring sleepily at his Superboy-sized teddy bear. “Go back to sleep.” Damian grumps with a yawn, and he looks oddly adorable.

Jon smiles, pulling Damian even closer if that's possible, and says, “Okay.”

(Five minutes later, both of them are asleep and unaware of the eyes watching from the shadows.)

* * *

After that, everything's back to the way it was, except-

Except for the tension still between Jon and Damian, the tension that they masterfully pretend isn't there. 

No one mentions it.

So it doesn't exist.

And for the first time in _months,_ Robin and Superboy fight together and Jon had forgotten how much _better_ it is to battle with Damian at his side, at his back.

 _Our first battle together in forever,_ Jon thinks with bitter twist to his lips, _and it's already going downhill._

Jon throws himself into a roll as Damian flips over Luthor's head, blade coming close to his eyes.

Then Luthor catches Damian by the cape a second before it's beyond Luthor's reach, and he tosses Damian off of the building.

Intellectually, Jon knows that Damian can handle himself, that he has a grapple.

But his heart doesn't listen to his mind, and in that moment all Jon sees is Damian falling to his death, hand outreached towards to the roof, mouth open in shock and cape coming up around his sides, and if Jon looks closer he can see Damian's eyes widening and he's getting closer to the ground-

Jon jumps.

He's known how to fly for a few years now, but right at this moment, that knowledge escapes him because Damian is only seconds away from dying and _goddamnit_ Jon _did not just get him back just to lose him again-_

“I've got you!” Jon shouts as he wraps himself around Damian, holding him as they fall.

“Jon, you idiot!” Jon can barely hear Damian over the scream of wind in his ears, but Damian looks gorgeous, face flushed with fight and wide eyes and glass explodes above them.

Tiny shards of glass glitter like diamonds behind Damian's face and the setting sun is shining right above, framing Damian's body in shadow, and the green of his eyes light up like a flame, glowing with resolve.

Jon looks at Damian and thinks that he'll be happy to die if the last thing he sees is this.

Then Damian slaps his face and shrieks, “Jonathan Samuel Kent, fly damnit, _fucking fly!”_

Jon wraps his arms around Damian's waist and does as he's told.

They rocket into the clouds and beyond, and Damian's legs wrap around his waist just before they pass the cloud cover.

They float above the marshmallows in the sky, staring each other in the eyes with Damian's arms wrapped around Jon's neck and Jon's hands holding him up.

They stare at each other, spinning idly in circles, then Damian leans forward until his forehead is touching Jon's, still looking Jon in the eyes and laughs.

It's breathless with adrenaline, giggles filling the silent air around them, and Jon is laughing with him, loud and boisterous and one hand travels up to rest against Damian's back as Jon whips around into another circle that has Damian laughing harder and louder as clouds start to do the same around them.

Jon doesn't know how long they do this, laughing and spinning and nothing else, because by the time Damian's fallen asleep on his chest and Jon's readjusted him into a bridal carry, it's dark out with stars twinkling merrily in the canvas stretched out above their heads and the moon shining behind them.

Damian's skin is turned pale and his hair gray in the star and moonlight and Jon's breath catches in his throat as he brushes a strand away from Damian's eyes.

Damian's beautiful.

Jon looks down at the world below his feet, lighted up like little lamps and grins.

 _Damian would want to paint this._ Jon thinks immediately. It's an incredible view, and Jon takes out his phone to take a picture.

Many pictures.

He takes one of Damian though, snaps one photograph before carefully putting his phone away and flies slowly towards Gotham.

He would like to take Damian home so that he can actually sleep for once, but Jon knows that will bring the wrath of the Batfamily upon him, so he doesn't.

He merely tucks Damian into his bed, whispers a goodbye, then leaves.

There's no evidence that he was there other than a open window and a slight breeze.

* * *

Damian's here.

Jon's practically bouncing in his chair with excitement because Damian's over and Jack's coming and they're going to meet.

Jon's so incredibly nervous about this.

Damian reaches out and grabs his arm. “Stop moving.”

Jon grins. “No! My best friend and boyfriend are going to meet!”

Damian sighs and stands, putting his hands on Jon's shoulders, pushing him into his seat. “It will be fine. Stop moving.”

“Jon?”

Jon bolts past Damian and rushes to the door, slowing down two feet before he gets there.

Jack doesn't know he's Superboy.

“Jack!” Jon cheers, pulling his boyfriend in for a hug. “Come on. There's someone I want to to meet.”

“If that's not foreboding, I don't know what is.”

“Oh, he's not so bad.” Jon laughs as he drags Jack into the kitchen. “Jack, this is Damian. He's my best friend. Damian, this is Jack. He's my boyfriend.”

Silence.

Jon looks between the two of them, fidgeting with the chair in front of him.

They're sizing each other up, Damian against Jack, and Jon can almost see the electricity.

Then Damian smiles, and it's thin and dangerous like his blade, and he says, “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Jack smiles back, and it's big and it's more like a baring of teeth. “The pleasures all mine.”

There's undercurrents to this exchange and Jon doesn't understand them but he's knows it's _there_.

Jon claps his hands together and grins. “Okay! Can we all stop having this contest, and go watch that movie?”

Damian huffs a laugh, leaning against the wall with his and crossed. Jack simply wraps an arm around Jon's shoulders, and says, “Okay.”

* * *

They end up not going out and instead having a bought watching movies on the couch, eating popcorn, and ordering pizza.

Jon is having one of the best nights all week.

Damian's head is in his lap like it tends to be when he's tired and wants a pillow-Jon's been told that his thighs are very comfortable, so he can't blame him-and Damian's pointing out all of the scientific impossibilities in the movie and Jon's running his hand through Damian's short hair.

Jack's to the left of Jon, resting his head on Jon's shoulder, snorting at a particularly stupid line and Jon has his arm around him, smiling at the fact that Jack and Damian seem to be getting along.

“Why does he lose his powers?” Damian finally explodes, brow furrowed in frustration.

Jon sighs and shares a look with Jack. “Because his father died-”

“Yes, but it's written into his DNA, he shouldn't have lost it!”

Jack lifts his head and glares. “Just accept it-”

“I will not!” Damian snarls, and pushes himself up to look Jack in the eyes.

“Shut up!” Jon shouts, glaring at them both. “It's a really emotional ending, and I want to watch it without arguing!”

Jack backs down immediately, but Damian does no such thing and Jon should've expected it; he _knows_ Damian, knows that Damian will never go down without a fight, because Damian looks him right in the eyes as he leans in close, close enough that their noses almost touch, smirks and says, “Make me.”

Jon lips twist upwards as he answers, “Fine.”

With a spark of excitement in his eyes, Damian leaps off the couch, running out of the living room and into the kitchen where there's a open window big enough that he can slip through clean and easy without stopping.

Jon laughs, and races after him without hesitation, adrenaline singing in his blood.

Damian always makes this Chase and Catch game fun.

Damian doesn't fight fair.

As Jon zooms out of the front door, boyfriend completely forgotten in the competition of Predator and Prey, he grins savagely.

He _loves_ doing this.

He can't hear Damian's heartbeat.

He can't see him either.

That's the other thing about this-Damian always turns it into training.

Jon stands for a moment, heart beating fast before he runs into the woods, knowing that Damian prefers crowded areas to fight.

More places to hide, to get advantages over your opponent.

Jon learned that the third time they played this.

Damian drops from a tree above, one sword out.

Jon dodges, jumps into a tree smoothly enough that it's only from practice. “Predictable, Dami!” Jon calls.

Damian's lips lift into a smile and Jon's heart almost stops.

“Really now?” He purrs, and throws a bird-a-rang at the branch Jon's couched on.

It cuts through, makes the wood small, Jon hovers in the air with a grin. “I can fly, Damian.”

“From what happened a few weeks ago, I could've been convinced otherwise.”

Jon laughs and turns to the side to avoid the Kryptonite laced throwing knife. “Wow, you're serious about winning, aren't you?”

Damian's smile is anything but nice. “But of course.” He presses a button and runs.

Jon's in shock for a moment before he hears the beeping. “Son of a bitch!” He shouts, flying away. The blast still catches him on the back and slams him into the house.

“Jon?” Jack's voice is worried as he helps Jon up.

Jon chuckles darkly and he turns his head to the sky. “That was a dirty trick, Damian!”

“I know!” Comes the reply, and Jon huffs.

“Let's see how you like it, you little-”

“Jon!"

Jon finally focuses on Jack, and now that he is, he can see how freaked out he is. “Jack-”

“Jon, how are you alive?"

“Jack-”

“And why can Damian jump from that branch,” Jack points to a tree maybe five feet away. “To the roof?”

Jon's mouth opens and closes. “Um.”

“I do parkour, Thompson!” Damian snaps and swings himself down to land beside Jon like he always does when they're facing odds he'd rather not be against.

Jon finds the familiarity comforting.

“But, how is Jon alive?” Jack exclaims.

Damian scoffs, makes that _-tt-_ sound that he gets from Bruce, crosses his arms and answers, “He didn't hit it that hard, not nearly with enough force to warrant injury, let alone death. What you think you saw was Jon going faster than what he was going.”

Sometimes, Jon is so incredibly glad he has Damian on his side.

Jack falters, eyes flitting between them, at the fact that they’re shoulder to shoulder against the world, a united front, then droops. He sighs running a hand through his hair-its scarlet, dyed from a week ago when Jon dragged him to the hair stylist.

“Fine. Fine, okay, keep your secrets, I don’t care.” Jack snaps, and Jon takes a tiny step back because Jack has rarely ever been angry with him. Annoyed, yes, but almost never angry.

Damian catches his arm and squeezes it reassuringly. “It will be fine.” He says, voice scarcely a mutter, and more of a rumble from his throat.

Jon nods, gently giving a small push to Damian’s shoulder. “I know.”

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Jon turns his attention back to his boyfriend, and smiles weakly. “I...I have to.”

Jack rolls his eyes, and turns to leave, not bothering to answer.

“Jack, where are you going?” Jon asks anxiously, hands scrambling for something to ground him.

Just five minutes ago, Jon was having a amazing day, one with Damian and Jack, and now it's ending.

He doesn't know what to do.

Damian pulls him into a hug, holds him close, and Jon lets him, watching as Jack walks down his dirt driveway and climbs into his battered farm truck and drives away.

Jon grips onto Damian and doesn’t let go.

* * *

Jon goes over to Damian's house for the weekend 

Jack hasn't texted him, or talked to him at school.

Jon's confused; Jack's the most accepting civilian he knows, why would he be mad about a secret?

Especially a secret that hasn't put a strain on their relationship?

Has it?

Jon doesn't _know._

But Jack's not speaking to him, and Damian's invited him over.

So Jon goes.

* * *

When he arrives at the Manor, Jason's out front.

He also cleaning his guns.

Jon shifts on his feet and says, “Hi, Jason.”

Jason doesn't look up, but the metal shines dangerously. “Hey.”

“Where's Damian?”

Jason starts to put the gun back together. “Why do you care?”

Jon rubs the back of his head, grinning nervously. “Because Damian said come over?”

Jason narrows his eyes and clicks his tongue. “Fine. He's in his room.”

Jon nods, hopes that his relief of escaping is _not_ showing on his face, and has that tenuous grip on gravity slip just a bit. His feet leave the ground and Jon heads to his friend's window.

Damian's sketching, so Jon let's himself in. He lands as quietly as he can and settles on the couch, simply watching as Damian's hand flickers to make whatever he's drawing.

A moment later, Damian removes his earbuds and turns to face Jon.

“So, what are we doing today?” Jon asks, and from the way Damian smirks, it's going to be fun.

“You'll see.” Damian replies mysteriously, and goes to change.

Jon waits for about five minutes, and then Damian comes out dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, and-

Jon tilts his head and squints.

Is that a Superboy sweatshirt?

“Damian?”

Damian shrugs and grabs the keys for his car. “Yes?”

Jon swallows dryly. “Why are you wearing a Superboy sweatshirt?”

Damian throws a feral grin over his shoulder. “Because I want to, Jon.”

Jon huffs a breath and follows Damian, like always.

* * *

Damian doesn’t tell him where they’re going-he never does, when he gets into this mood.

And Damian’s in a mood, there’s no doubt about that. He has that sparkle in his eyes, that tilt to his lips, that twitch of his fingers.

Jon barely hides a laugh.

Whatever Damian has planned is going to be _fun._

“Mind giving me a hint what is it we’re going to do?” Jon asks, stretching his arms up until his back pops.

Damian’s eyes follow the arch of his back. “Nope.” He says.

Jon snorts and turns up the music. “Levitate by Imagine Dragons?” Jon wonders why that’s playing. Damian doesn’t really listen to that kind of music.

“Yes.” Damian replies, and sings along. “There’s so much on my mind, I don’t know where to start. There’s that light in your eye, filling up that dark. Though I lost myself, I know it’s not the end. You’re my shooting star, you make my heart ascend.”

Jon sits back and lets the smooth voices of Damian and Imagine Dragons wash over him.

_La, la, la. Just levitate, just levitate._

_La , la, la. Just levitate, just levitate._

_La, la, la. Just levitate, just levitate…_

Jon slips off to sleep with the words _just levitate_ echoing in his ears and Damian’s hand clasped in his own, and it’s the best sleep he’s gotten all week.

* * *

There’s a weight on his shoulder. Jon rouses from a dream with him and Damian fighting Kid Amazo back when they both were just getting to know each other, and opens his heavy eyelids to see Damian.

“Jon, we’re here.”

Jon looks out of the car window, and stares in sleep induced confusion at the sign in front of him. “...You drove me to a amusement park?”

Damian nods, grabs two hats, and shoves one down on Jon’s head. “Yes. And I also bought us hats.”

Jon watches as Damian puts on a Superboy themed cap on his head, and knows that his will be Robin’s symbol without even looking.

“What park?”

“The best one in relation to the location of Gotham City.” Damian says as Jon gets out of the car, adjusting the hat.

“Uh-huh. Care to tell me what park?”

Damian scowls, locks the car, and points to the sign that looms overhead like a skyscraper. “It tells you the name _right there,_ Jon. Use your eyes.”

“Sorry, I was half-asleep.” Jon teases before glancing at the sign again. “Six Flags Great Adventure, huh.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Damian hesitates, and for the first time since Jon met Damian that day, he looks sheepish. “I thought that you might enjoy a distraction from your relationship.”

Jon thinks on it, nods, and picks Damian up, throwing him over his shoulder. “Let’s go, then!”

“Jon, put me down, you imbecile!”

“Never!”

* * *

Jon has had a amazing day.

Sure, they’d gotten a few odd looks, a couple weird compliments about how people are ‘so proud’ of them, but Jon didn’t let that distract him.

He’s breathy from laughter, and Damian’s the same as they stumble out of the park a second before it closes, and when Jon looks over, Damian’s cheeks are flushed red, and his lips are wet and dyed different colors from drinking lemonade and eating snow cones all day, and his eyes are almost shut from how hard he’s smiling, and-

Jon nearly leans over and kisses him.

It’s so natural, like if Jon didn’t stop to think about it, he would have. He would have leaned right down and kissed Damian on his blue-red-purple lips without a single hesitation.

Damian’s still wearing those Superboy items and the few others that he bought inside the park, and it looks like he’s being covered by Jon.

Jon swallows hard and turns his head away.

Damian catches his breath and pitches his head up, and Jon can’t help but notice how Damian’s eyes stand out, how he has little water droplets clinging to his hair, making little diamonds glitter and shine.

“I need to go home.”

Damian openly frowns at him, a little pout forming, and Jon needs to leave right now.

“Sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He leaves Damian in a parking lot with blue-red-purple lips and red cheeks and a frown, and he doesn’t look back.

(He does stop, once, and almost turns back around, almost goes back to that parking lot in New Jersey and kisses Damian on the lips and laugh with him in the car and-

Jon imagines Jack’s smiling face and heads back home.)

* * *

After that, the simple things Damian does draws Jon’s attention.

He lifts his hand and flips someone off, and Jon thinks it’s adorable.

Damian gets hurt and refuses to speak of it, Jon cuddles him into submission.

It isn’t anything that hasn’t been done before.

But now it seems to have undertones of _something._

Something that feels right at home, right in his chest, pounding and warm and it always, always jumps when Damian makes that _-tt-_ sound.

Jon doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Jon?”

Jon pulls himself out of his thoughts and sends a weak uplift of his lips to Jack.

“Yeah?”

Jack sighs, smiles, and kisses him on the cheek.

“Jon, I think that we should break up.”

It hits him like a punch to the gut, and Jon is blinded by the suddenness.

“What?” Jon croaks out, trying to reconnect to the world.

There’s no way that Jack just said that.

Right?

Jack sits down, and only now does Jon realize that they’re in that burger place, that place that they went on a date on months ago, when Damian had come over and kissed him.

It's a bitter irony.

“I said that I think we should break up.”

“Wh-why?”

Jon doesn’t _understand,_ everything has been going so well between them. It’s been seven months since they got together in December, and it’s near the end of June.

Did he miss their anniversary?

Jack laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs, and Jon reaches out, concerned.

Jack shakes his hand off, and says, “No, you didn’t miss our anniversary.”

Oh.

“I said that out loud?” Jon asks, and Jack nods, frame still shaking. “Then...then why..”

Jack shrugs. “You’re clearly in love with another person. I don’t want to hold on and force you to stay when you could go with someone else who you obviously love.”

“Then why were you mad at me a few weeks ago?”

“Because I was jealous.”

“Of what?” Jon exclaims. There was nothing to be jealous about, not back then.

“Of the fact that you cared more about the fact that you cared more about Damian than me.”

Jack says it with a completely straight face.

“I don’t-” Jon begins, and is cut off by Jack shushing him.

“It’s fine. I’ve accepted it. That’s why I didn’t speak to you. Now.” Jack rearranges the salt at the table and peeks up, and Jon sees how much this scares Jack. “Do you agree?”

Jon’s mouth works of it’s own accord, and he answers, “Yes.”

“Good!” Jack says, and now it’s really obvious how much this change frightens him.

“Jack, it’s okay. We can still be friends.” Jon tells him, and the fear leaves his eyes.

“I just-” Jack rubs at his eys. “You’re-you’re a great person, Jon, and I’m afraid of losing you.”

Jon chuckles, the sound rumbling up from inside his chest. “Nah, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Good. Good. I’m going to leave now.” Jack rushes out the door, as socially awkward as he could possibly be, and Jon leans back in his chair and simply starts to cackle, bending over with glee.

He loves Jack, just not in the way he thought he did.

And that’s okay.

* * *

A day later, Jon slams into Damian from the front, grinning and leaving kisses everywhere he can.

“Wha- _Jon?”_ Damian shouts in surprise, and Jon flies into the air, spinning him around in dizzyign circles. “Jon, what are you doing?”

“Jack broke up with me and helped me realize some things. He’s a wonderful gay friend, honest. He painted my nails galaxy style. Apparently he's a holosexual.”

“What-Jon, that doesn’t explain what you’re doing.”

“Oh!” Jon sets Damian down on the roof of the Manor and flies around him, too excited to stay in one place. “I love you!”

Damian freezes. “...You-”

Jon pecks him on the nose. “Yep! I love you! Will you go out with me, Your Majesty?”

“Will I-Aren’t you dating Jack?”

“No! I already told you that!”

“You were speaking too fast for me to understand!” Damian snaps.

“Fine! Jack broke up with me and is now my gay friend who I love. I love you romantically and have for a long time now, so will you please go out with me?”

Damian pulls Jon’s face close, says, “Yes,” And kisses him straight on the lips.

* * *

**Epilogue: Six Years Later**

* * *

“Jon! Come on, we’re late enough as it is!” Damian hollers to the ceiling, adjusting his watch.

“Coming, coming!”

“Jon!”

“I’m right here!” Jon comes racing down the stairs, almost tripping on his face.

Damian catches him a moment before he does. “Thanks!”

Damian scoffs and rolls his eyes. “What would the world think if Flamebird couldn’t catch himself in his own home?”

“You know you love me!” Jon tells him, pressing his lips to his cheek.

“Sometimes, I don’t know why.” Damian replies, dragging him out the door. Matching golden rings shine on their fingers, and neither of them notice. “Now, I don’t want to be any more late to Jack and Tyler’s wedding than we already are, let's _go.”_

“We’re going, we’re going!”

The door slams shut behind them, and a picture of Jon and Damian in tuxes and cutting cake is bathed in sunlight.

It opens again, and Jon comes running back in, grabbing the keys left by the photo. “Almost forgot these!”

The door shuts again and another picture of Jon and Damian kissing at the altar falls onto the couch.

All is well.

**Author's Note:**

> I am admittedly nervous about this. It's longer than I've written in a while.
> 
> Was the sex okay? Did the fic turn to shit halfway through?
> 
> These are the questions running through my mind.
> 
> Comments are always loved and brighten up my day and are saved in my Gmail.
> 
> Also! Here's my [Tumblr.](http://nikescaret.tumblr.com) Come visit and chat with me if you want!


End file.
